So, I have had the car for a full week today. I have a) driven it home, very carefully 2) driven it over to my dad's for a brief visit and iii) taken it out to recharge the battery. I know I said I was going to leave it in the garage until spring. But the insurance card came today. I had to put it in the car, then I messed around with the radio, the dash, the sun roof, etcetera after I put the card in the car. So I had the bright idea that perhaps I should run it for a bit to recharge the battery - just in case. Duff and I played horse around with the cars to get the 911 out of the garage. Once it was running, where do I decide to take the car? Around the block briefly? Let it idle in the garage perhaps? Maybe just run it down the highway? No - of course not. I decide to take it down into the valley. I think, one quick lap - down Stinchcomb, across the river and back up behind the hospital. No problem. Just enough to warm it up, not enough to get salt all over it. So, I just get down Stinchcomb hill, turn left and take it up into third gear. I'm not going fast at all. Just turning over at 2000 rpm. Cruising. What to my wondering eyes does appear? A Cop. I go into Steve Pack's patented routine - oh sh*t, oh f**k, mess around with driver's license, etcetera. Those of you who know the routine, know what I was doing. It is a magic voodoo dance to avoid getting a ticket. Usually, it works. Usually I am driving a PT Cruiser. He pulls me over. I think I made his night. I explained that I had JUST. . . GOT . . . THE . . . CAR. I wasn't used to it. It got away from me. I grovel. He gives me a warning.
I have got to get a radar detector.